Metamorphosis
by ComputerSteve
Summary: The continuing story of Duncan MacLeod in the 24th century.  Sequel to Where No Clan Has Gone Before.


Metamorphosis  
Part One

by Steve Bellinger

"Immortality is illogical," Tuvoc said. "The existence of life in the Universe depends upon a cycle. A cycle that includes death and decay which ultimately results in new life."

Duncan MacLeod sighed. "But it is a fact. You and I are proof. We are here and we are immortal."

"Facts are not always logical."

"Maybe not, but the facts are there, and that's all that matters!"

The two immortals were strolling along a service corridor within the bowels of the Deep Space Nine station. One of the few places where they could find peace, quiet and privacy. The Vulcan, with his orderly mind, was having difficulty with his own immortality, and Duncan had taken it upon himself to help his new found friend.

"What if all creatures were immortal? It simply would not work!"

"What if everyone were Vulcan?" MacLeod countered with a grin.

Tuvoc mulled this for a second, "The Universe would be a very logical place!"

"And a very boring place. Look, Tuvoc," Duncan smiled, "I'm not saying that it's going to be easy. It's never easy. Look at me. I have lived for almost 800 years! Can you imagine the friends I've made, the women I've loved? And for what? To simply watch them age and die while I go on. But, I do go on!"

"Indeed," Tuvoc mused. "But to what purpose?"

"What is the reason for anything?"

"You are repeating my question."

"What I mean is; must there be a reason for everything? Can't there be things that are just beyond our understanding? Look, don't you believe that life can be a journey, and an adventure?" MacLeod stopped and faced Tuvoc.

The Vulcan thought for a moment. "Yes," he said. "That is why I joined Star Fleet."

"Perhaps part of our adventure is to try to find out why. The Universe is infinite! We immortals are, perhaps, the only creatures who could ever possibly see all--or at least most of it!"

Tuvoc was quiet for several long moments. "Indeed!" He began walking slowly and MacLeod fell into step. "You make us sound like gods!"

"No, not gods," MacLeod smiled. "Just different."

The silence was suddenly ripped by the sound of a distant explosion and screams.

"This way!" Tuvoc ran ahead. MacLeod was a step behind.

As they turned a corner they could see two men, one lying on the floor with a large metal support beam on his chest and the other trying in vain to move it. Both were staring wide eyed at a glowing, smoking pipe on the wall, hissing loudly as small amounts of white hot material spewed out.

"What happened?" MacLeod yelled as they approached.

"We were welding a micro breach when this pipe busted!" the standing man said.

"A plasma conduit!" Tuvoc shouted above the noise. "Get him out of here! I will help this one!" The Vulcan tugged on the beam while the man under it groaned.

"You can't move that alone!" MacLeod said.

"Yes, I can!" Tuvoc said as the beam rose several feet. "Can you move?" he shouted to the man on the floor.

"No!" the man shouted back.

MacLeod and the other workman took the screaming, injured man by his badly burned arms and pulled him free.

"Get them as far away as you can!" Tuvoc shouted.

The three men moved quickly around the bend in the corridor, the injured man being dragged by the other two. Tuvoc, seeing the others out of danger dropped the beam and started to run.

At that moment, the conduit exploded.

It was a simple service. By special request, Captain Benjamin Sisko took part, waiting patiently as a Vulcan ambassador performed the traditional rituals. Around the shiny, black, capsule-shaped coffin stood Miles and Kako O'Brien; Miles with bandages on his arms and chest; and Duncan MacLeod and Dr. Julian Bashir, who exchanged solemn glances.

"Mr. O'Brien?" the Captain said when the Vulcan portion of the service was over.

Miles walked over to the coffin. "Tuvoc, I did not even know you, and yet I owe you my life. A debt that I intend to at least try to repay. We never found any records of any surviving kin, but, I plan to take it upon myself to locate any family you have and tell them of your heroism and the gratitude of myself and my family. I promise this to you. Godspeed, my friend."

Sisko read a Bible passage while Kako quietly sang "Amazing Grace." Slowly, the coffin moved along a track and into an opening in the wall that irised shut afterwards. Moments later, the computer confirmed that Tuvoc's body had been fired into space through a photon torpedo tube.

O'Brien walked over to Duncan. "You were a friend of Tuvoc's."

"Only for a short time."

"Well, I meant what I said. I'm going to search every database in the Federation and beyond until I find someone. There has got to be someone somewhere!"

MacLeod smiled.

"And I am indebted to you, too, Mr. MacLeod!" Miles smiled. "I'd shake your hand, but, well, it will still be a couple of days before these burns heal."

"Call me Duncan. And it was my pleasure. I'm sure you would have done the same for me."

Kako walked over and, with a tear in her eye, kissed MacLeod on the cheek. "Thank you for bringing my Miles back to me."

"Uh, Duncan," Bashir interrupted, "hadn't you better get going?"

"Oh, yes," MacLeod addressed everyone in the room. "I have an appointment to keep, and as it is I barely have time to get there.

Thank you, thank you all. I think Tuvoc would have been pleased."

With that, MacLeod rushed to his ship and was quickly on his way.

It took nearly an hour to catch up with the coffin. MacLeod brought his ship alongside and activated the transporter. The Vulcan materialized on the floor, eyes closed and hands crossed on his chest.

"Ok, you can get up now, it's all over." MacLeod said.

Tuvoc's eyes opened slowly and he began to breathe deeply. After a few seconds, he stood. "I seem to have been in the coffin a bit longer than planned!"

"I had a hell of a time catching up with you! I didn't know they were going to fire you out of a damned torpedo tube! Are you alright?"

"I am fine, and I am in your debt."

"Please," MacLeod shook his head, "We have to look out for each other. Besides, it was Julian's idea to outfit a coffin with life support."

"Indeed. An excellent and logical plan."

"The only problem is," Duncan said as he moved back to the controls at the front of the ship, "a couple of men saw you die, and some very important people saw you buried. You're going to have to lay low for a while. Maybe a very long while. And, did you hear what O'Brien said?"

"About searching for my relatives, yes," Tuvoc frowned. "I am certain that my parents have had all the necessary databases modified." He walked over to the front of the ship and sat next to MacLeod at the console.

"You know, I'm really not that great a pilot," Duncan said as he slowly veered the ship away from the capsule.

"As I suspected. That is why I had several days of oxygen placed into the coffin."

"Several days?"

"By using a self-induced state of hibernation, I could have survived for weeks."

"You would have survived no matter what."

"True. But it would otherwise have been quite uncomfortable. May I ask where we are going?"

MacLeod pressed a few keys on the console. "To the Ferengi home world. I've got some stuff in the back that some Ferengi hotshot is willing to pay a lot of latinum for."

"I see," Tuvoc paused as he worked some things out in his mind. "With a deviation of less than 7 hours you could drop me off at Praxis-13. There is a colony of old-fashioned terraformers there who would welcome an additional set of hands, with no questions asked."

"Oh," Duncan said. "I kind of thought that perhaps you might want to come with me!"

Tuvoc's eyebrows shot up. "Come with you?"

MacLeod gave him a sidelong glance; did he see just a hint of a smile for a second?

"I did promise to teach you how to be a good immortal. Besides, it gets a little lonely out here; I was kind of starting to think of us as partners."

"Partners?"

"You know," Duncan smiled, "like the Lone Ranger and Tonto, or Batman and Robin--"

Tuvoc frowned, "Batman and Robin?"

MacLeod thought for a moment, "How about Kirk and Spock?"

"I see," Tuvoc nodded. "You wish for me to be--what is the expression--a side kick?"

MacLeod laughed. "I like partners better. Partners are equals. You're new to immortality. I'm still a little new to space travel. I am sure we can help each other out. So, are we partners?"

Tuvoc stared at MacLeod for a moment while he digested this. "Yes, we are partners," he said as he allowed Duncan to shake his hand.

"Good, then you can be the pilot,' MacLeod waved his hands over the console, "I hate doing this. Too damned complicated!"

"Of course," Tuvoc's hands quickly ran across the console as he made adjustments. "I have modified the fuel mixture ratios. Efficiency has been increased by 27."

MacLeod stared blindly at the console.

"Your fuel will last 27 longer," Tuvoc explained.

"Oh, uh, thanks!"

"Now I shall make a few minor course corrections--" Tuvoc suddenly fell silent.

"What is it?"

"A ship on long range scanner. I shall put it on the screen."

"That's a ship?" MacLeod said. "Looks more like--" When he turned to Tuvoc, he saw something that chilled his spine. The Vulcan, for the briefest moment, showed an expression of fear—no, terror--on his face.

"Reversing course," Tuvoc said quickly as he worked feverishly at the console. "We must leave here as quickly as possible! We are in grave danger!"

"From that?" Duncan gestured towards the screen. "How can that pose any danger to us?"

"Obviously, you have never before encountered the Borg!"

---------------------------------------------------------------

Metamorphosis  
Part Two

by Steve Bellinger

"The Borg?" MacLeod eyes widened, "Get us the hell out of here!"

"You know of them!" Tuvoc had already reversed course and they were approaching warp speed. "Then also you know how desperate our situation is!"

"This ship can do warp 5 if you really push it! How fast can they go?"

"Borg ships have been known to exceed warp 9," the Vulcan said as he switched the viewscreen to rear view. "And they are in pursuit."

The ship shuddered violently and alarms went off. "They have engaged a tractor beam." Tuvoc worked feverishly to wring every ounce of power from the warp engine. "The engine is overheating! We cannot fight the tractor beam! Warp engine is shutting down!"

The bluish glow of a transporter field appeared in the center of the ship. A moment later, a Borg drone materialized, part man, part machine, covered with black mechanized armor. The flesh that was visible on its face, neck and left hand was a mottled gray. A laser emitter covered its left eye. The other eye was a cold, pale blue, that caused MacLeod to shiver when it looked at him. The drone walked stiffly to a computer port on the wall and jacked in with the data-prosthesis on its right arm.

MacLeod drew a sword from somewhere and swung at the thing. As the blade came within inches of the drone, it struck an invisible force field that sizzled upon contact. The energy that was transmitted through the metal of the sword ripped through MacLeod's body and sent him flying backwards, headfirst into a bulkhead. The drone was oblivious.

"WE ARE BORG!" a voice seemed to come from everywhere. "RESISTANCE IS FUTILE!"

Tuvoc's hands flew over the console, rerouting circuits and bypassing fail-safe systems. He then lifted the panel, reached in and pulled loose a conduit.

The panel that the drone was connected to exploded. Bolts of plasma energy danced around its body as smoke rose from the data-prosthesis. It convulsed for several seconds, then fell to the floor.

MacLeod sat up, rubbing his head. "What the hell did you do?"

"Hopefully I have gained us some time," Tuvoc said as he re-connected the conduit and closed the panel. "I overloaded the data line to that port. As you can see it apparently damaged the drone. We have, perhaps, seconds before the collective on the ship realizes that the link to this drone has been broken."

"So what do we do with these seconds?"

"The tractor beam is gone," Tuvoc slowed the ship to sublight and spun it around. " I shall attempt to get us away from here!"

MacLeod's jaw dropped. "What the hell are you doing? Are you crazy?"

"I am trying to escape," Tuvoc said calmly as the ship was programmed for a collision course with the Borg ship.

"They'll blast us before we get anywhere near them!"

"If they were going to destroy us they would have done so already."

The tiny ship approached within a few thousand kilometers of the Borg cube. Then, it veered off sharply and went into maximum warp. The Borg ship also went into warp, continuing on it's original heading.

MacLeod was breathless. "Tuvoc," he said, "Even an immortal can't survive a warp core explosion! It would blow us apart!"

"So I have surmised. However, I had no intention of being blown apart!"

"You were flying right into that thing! We could have crashed into it! They could have blown us to bits!"

"But, neither happened."

Duncan got up off the floor and dropped himself into the seat next to the Vulcan. "Ok. So, can you tell me just what the hell did happen just now?"

"The Borg are part humanoid, part machine. Actually, they are mostly machine when you consider the entire collective. Being very efficient machines, they are also very logical, like any computer. I reasoned that the only way to fight such pure logic was with illogical action," Tuvoc paused to check the scanners. The Borg were nowhere to be found. "If you were chasing someone on foot and temporarily lost sight of him, what would you do?"

"Keep running in the same direction. Sooner or later I'd probably spot him again."

"Precisely. The logical thing to do. For a few moments, when we disabled the drone, there was a communications disruption. The

overload must have distorted the signal on the link and shut down the tractor beam. For a few seconds they simply could not see us. Once they and realized what happened, they would logically assume that we were trying to get away and would be doing so on the same course."

"The last thing they would expect us to do is reverse course and fly towards them," MacLeod smiled. "That would have been illogical! Tuvoc! That was brilliant!"

"It was logical. And not without precedent."

"Think they'll come looking for us?"

"We are on a perpendicular course. They will probably have forgotten about us long before they realize that we are not where they think we are."

MacLeod sighed. "I see, I think."

"There is one problem," Tuvoc turned to face the drone that was still lying motionless on the floor.

"Is he dead?"

"Because it is part, machine, it may only be malfunctioning, and may even be in the process of repairing itself as we speak." Tuvoc said flatly.

"In that case, we should beam him off the ship! If he comes around, he could call them back." MacLeod stood and cautiously approached the drone.

"True," the Vulcan said as he stood. "However, our encounter with the Borg put a serious strain on our power reserves. It would be unwise to use the transporter."

"Ok," MacLeod said as he stooped to grab it's feet, "help me get it into the airlock."

Tuvoc took it's shoulders and they lifted.

The laser device over it's eye fell off and onto the floor.

"Wait a minute!" MacLeod said. "Put him down!"

They lay the drone back on the floor and for the first time they noticed color appearing in it's face. Then, it opened it's eyes.

"My God!" MacLeod exclaimed, "I know this man!"

The Borg drone sat up and blinked. His gaunt face lit up with a wicked smile. "Well, well! Duncan MacLeod!"

"Methos!?"

------------------------------------------------------------

Metamorphosis  
Part Three

by Steve Bellinger

"Methos! What the hell?" MacLeod said as he helped his very old friend to his feet.

As he stood, metallic armor pieces fell from his body. "Do you have anything here that I can wear? I'm going to be quite naked in a few minutes."

"Oh," MacLeod said. "Sure," He opened a panel and gave him a jumpsuit. After a minute or two, the prosthesis dropped off and they were able to pull off the bits of armor that did not fall off on its own. Methos stepped into the jumpsuit.

"I am afraid I do not understand!" Tuvoc said as he watched Methos peel the Borg implants off his face.

"How much does he know?" Methos asked Duncan.

"He's immortal. Couldn't you tell?"

"No more than you could while I was in that computerized tin can!" Methos walked over to Tuvoc and examined his ears. "And what are you, some kind of overgrown leprechaun or something?"

Tuvoc's eyebrows went up. "No, I am a Vulcan."

"I see," Methos looked at him suspiciously.

"You were kidnapped and assimilated by the Borg?" MacLeod asked.

"No, I volunteered," Methos said nastily. "I enjoy being a mindless automaton!"

"Well, _you_ haven't changed very much!"

"The auto regeneration properties of your immortality is why the implants are failing," Tuvoc said.

Methos squinted as he looked Tuvoc in the eye. "You talk funny!"

"What he is trying to say is that being immortal--" MacLeod started.

"I know what he said." Methos sat down. "Now that I am outside of their influence I am no longer part of the collective. So my body is rejecting all of the implants. In a few minutes I'll be puking up nano drones like mechanized hairballs." He looked up at them. "Believe me, it's not a pretty sight!"

"Then you have experienced this before?" Tuvoc asked.

"Over and over and over again," Methos sighed. "At first, they didn't understand. They would install an implant and a minute later it would be rejected and fall off. Unfortunately, they are not known for their bedside manner--or use of anesthetics, for that matter. It was one agonizing operation after another. Then they somehow figured it out. They injected me with microscopic nano drones to go into my brain and suppress my healing mechanism."

"Fascinating!"

"That's not the half of it," Methos continued. "They also somehow figured out that, no matter what happened to me, I would not die. So they always made me the vanguard of any invasion. I was always the first one to go, in a manner of speaking. Just like now."

"So, when I shorted the computer port and broke the link to the collective, your natural healing proclivities were returned to you."

Tuvoc said.

"Uh, yes," Methos turned to Duncan, "Is he always like this?"

"Yes. But it does come in handy sometimes."

"However," Tuvoc queried, "if the healing mechanism is suppressed—then you could be injured and perhaps die. It would not be logical to send you first every time!"

Methos shook his head in exasperation, "Look, I am an immortal, not an engineer! Next time you see a Borg, ask _him_ how it works!" Suddenly, he began coughing, a loud, painful hacking cough. "The nano drones," he said in a choking voice. "Where--?"

"In there," MacLeod directed him to the lavatory. Methos ran inside.

Tuvoc winced slightly as Methos retched and screamed in pain. "Is this the man you told me about?"

"Yes. The oldest living immortal." MacLeod said.

"I take it he is a superlative swordsman!"

"He is good, but there are many who are better," MacLeod grinned.

Tuvoc raised an eyebrow. "I do not understand."

"Immortals are people, too, Tuvoc," MacLeod smiled. "Methos managed to become the world's oldest immortal not by winning fights, but by avoiding a fight whenever he could."

"Logical!"

"Logic has little to do with it," MacLeod said as he told the Vulcan about the immortal who masqueraded as a watcher and who once killed countless thousands of people as one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.

"Fascinating! I was lead to believe that they were mere legend!"

"They were real alright, and the man throwing up in the bathroom was one of them."

Tuvoc looked confused. "And you say that this is the man who runs from a fight?"

"_Avoids_ a fight," Methos said as he exited the bathroom. "I avoid a fight, unless I am forced, and then only when I have the odds in my favor." He wiped a little blood from his mouth.

"That would take the challenge out of it all," Tuvoc mused.

"Yes, well, you can keep your challenge," Methos walked over to the console, "I'll be quite happy with just keeping my head on my shoulders, thank you very much! Where are we going?"

"I have business on the Ferengi homeworld," Duncan said. "Then I thought I'd go back home for a while."

"To Earth?" Methos turned and scowled. "What for?"

"I miss green grass and blue sky."

"There is nothing for us there!" Methos shook his head. "This is the place to be--the Universe! An infinite place for infinite beings!"

"We are not gods!" Tuvoc interjected.

"Listen, Peter Pan, I have a plan for my life, and it does not include going back to Earth and being hunted by the remaining immortals there who still think that 'there can be only one!'" Methos lowered his voice, "I want nothing to do with any gathering." The room fell silent for a few moments. "So how soon will we get there?"

"What's your rush?" MacLeod said suspiciously.

"No rush," Methos shrugged, "it was an innocent question."

"Within the hour," Tuvoc said as he sat down at the controls.

"Ferengis," Methos shuddered, "Never had any use for them. Disgusting little devils. Ah--but MacLeod, you'll like the Ferengi women!"

MacLeod frowned, "What are you talking about?"

"You know, they are not allowed to wear any clothes," Methos smiled wickedly, "they are required by law to walk around completely naked! Should make things easy for you!"

"You're a sick man, Methos!"

----------------------------------------------------------

Metamorphosis  
Part Four

by Steve Bellinger

After negotiations with three Ferengi spaceports, Tuvoc landed the ship at the one who accepted the lowest landing fee and was near their final destination. MacLeod assembled the unidentifiable items that the Ferengi found so valuable and he and Tuvoc set off to make the deal.

"You're not coming?" MacLeod said to Methos.

"No! I told you, I dislike the Ferengi! They are abhorrent, money grubbing little creatures! They make my skin crawl. If you don't mind I'll just stay here and get a little rest. I've been through quite a lot!"

"Suit yourself," MacLeod said and he and the Vulcan left the ship.

The negotiations were quick. The Ferengi were willing to pay an unbelievable sum for what MacLeod thought was just so much junk. With a little dickering he actually got them to pay a little more. MacLeod took his money and excused himself when the Ferengi man offered to call his wife and daughter in to meet him.

"That went well!" MacLeod said.

"I am surprised that you did not hold out for more! It was obvious that they found the articles to be of great value!" Tuvoc said.

"I am only interested in a decent profit, I'm not greedy. Besides, I have to agree with Methos. Ferengis make me nervous." They made their way back to the spaceport, and after paying an unexpected departure fee, climbed aboard the ship.

"Have you ever been to Earth, Tuvoc?"

"Yes, when I was in the Academy," the Vulcan immortal said as the hatch closed behind him with a faint hiss. "It is a beautiful planet. I look forward to visiting again."

"So, Methos, are you coming with us or what?" MacLeod fell silent when there was no answer. "Methos?"

"It would seem that he is not here!"

MacLeod clenched his fists. "What kind of game is he playing now?"

Just then, the hatch doors hissed open and Methos walked in. He was visibly surprised to see Duncan and Tuvoc. "Well, that was pretty quick negotiating!"

Where the hell were you? We almost left you here!"

"I thought these Ferengi were hard-nosed businessmen!"

"Don't change the subject," MacLeod said angrily.

"Well, I'm here now, let's get going!"

"You did not answer the question," Tuvoc said. "When we arrived, you showed no interest in leaving the ship."

"I went for a walk, OK?" Methos walked over to face Tuvoc. "Or don't you Klingons ever need fresh air?"

"I am not a Klingon, I am a Vulcan."

"Same difference."

"Look, let's just get going, alright?" MacLeod sighed.

Tuvoc got the ship off the ground. They left the Ferengi system and went into warp.

Methos was sitting near the rear of the ship with his head in his hands.

"Are you alright?" MacLeod called from the front.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine. How fast are we going?"

"Warp 3.6," Tuvoc said as he turned toward Methos. "Why?"

Methos lifted his head and stood. He blinked twice and grinned. Suddenly, there was a jolt and alarms went off.

"We are caught in a tractor beam!" Tuvoc began moving his hands over the console. "The sensors are out of alignment. I cannot

get an image!" He hands moved faster. "I have an image now!"

The viewscreen flickered. When it cleared, a Borg cube appeared.

"Sorry that I won't be joining you on your trip home," Methos smiled. "I'll just be getting off here!" And, with that, he was snatched away by a transporter beam.

Duncan and Tuvoc spent the next hour wondering if and when they were going to die.

"There is no logical reason for the Borg to 'toy' with us," Tuvoc said.

"But this is Methos we're dealing with. I told you that he has a history of ruthlessness. We don't know what his

involvement is with the Borg," MacLeod thought out loud. "Doesn't assimilation involve taking something from the assimilated person and adding it to the collective?"

"If there is something that the Borg find useful."

"Methos is immortal--maybe their control over him is not complete--maybe--maybe--"

"MAYBE _I_ AM THE ONE WHO IS IN CONTROL?" On the viewscreen was the image of Methos, complete with Borg accouterments.

"That would be logical," Tuvoc explained to MacLeod. "The Borg operate on a "hive" model. A collective would need a focus, a leader--to be a 'queen,' if you will."

"Methos? A Queen Borg?" MacLeod's head was spinning.

"METHOS OF BORG IS THE LEADER OF THIS COLLECTIVE. WHEN I WAS ASSIMILATED I SOON DISCOVERED THAT MY IMMORTALITY MADE IT IMPOSSIBLE FOR THE COLLECTIVE TO ABSORB ME. I WAS ABLE TO TAKE CONTROL AND THIS COLLECTIVE BROKE AWAY FROM THE LARGER ONE."

"And what are you up to now?" Duncan asked.

"YOU DON'T GET IT DO YOU? _I_ ORCHESTRATED THIS ENTIRE ENCOUNTER, FROM YOUR GETTING THE 'JUNK' THAT THE FERENGIS WANTED TO ARRANGING THE CONTACT TO INVITE YOU TO THEIR WORLD."

"Why?"

"ALWAYS THE CURIOUS ONE, VULCAN! I NEEDED SOMETHING FROM THE FERENGIS, AND I COULD NOT VERY WELL APPROACH THEM AS A BORG!" Methos' expression turned cold. "ENOUGH OF THIS. I HAVE WHAT I NEED."

Tuvoc and MacLeod nearly fell from their seats as the ship was jolted again.

"I HAVE REMOVED THE TRACTOR BEAM. YOU ARE FREE TO GO. AND I SUGGEST THAT YOU GO HOME AS PLANNED," Methos' expression softened. "PERHAPS WHEN WE MEET AGAIN IT WILL BE UNDER MORE AMICABLE CIRCUMSTANCES."

With that, Methos' face faded from the screen and the Borg cube appeared. The next moment, it zipped out of sight.

"We've got to follow him and find out what he is up to--"

"MacLeod," Tuvoc stopped him as he reached for the controls. "There is no way we could ever catch up with him. He is already out of sensor range."

Duncan sighed in exasperation.

"The best thing that we can do is continue on our course for Earth."

"Right, we can warn Starfleet or something."

"Of course, but one Borg ship is no greater threat than any other." Tuvoc placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "This is one

instance where there is nothing that you can do!"

MacLeod sat quietly as Tuvoc computed the coordinates for Earth. The Vulcan, who had experienced many emotional relapses since becoming immortal could sympathize with MacLeod's frustration.

"Curious," Tuvoc said.

"What?"

"While we were on the Ferengi homeworld, I noticed for the first time the name you have given your ship. I understand it is customary for humans to ascribe female qualities to space vessels."

"That's been true since wooden ships sailed the oceans."

"I have also heard that the names often have special meaning. Is that true in this case?"

MacLeod looked up in surprise, "Yes, yes it is."

"I would be most interested in hearing about it!"

MacLeod sighed and began to tell Tuvoc the story as the Vulcan engaged the warp drive and put the _Tessa_ on course for Earth.

The End


End file.
